


Malfunction - Or, Spock and Kirk Get Stuck In A Turbo-Lift

by AlyssiaInWonderland



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Angst, But not explicit, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Jim, Jim is a mess, Jim is not okay, M/M, Mentions trauma, Protective Spock, Spock is a darling, T'hy'la, Tarsus IV, They just need hugs, seriously so much angst, they are going to be okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-12 23:34:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11172432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlyssiaInWonderland/pseuds/AlyssiaInWonderland
Summary: When Spock and Kirk get stuck in a malfunctioning turbo-lift together, the incident brings old scars to the fore, and ends up bringing them closer together too.In other words, Jim is Not Okay, there is a Lot of angst, but it all works out okay in the end.





	Malfunction - Or, Spock and Kirk Get Stuck In A Turbo-Lift

“And of course, the ionisation levels would contribute to the disruption of the sensors without the lead protection-“

“Indeed, which is why the development of a truly transparent protective coating would prove so beneficial to our scanning endeavours.”

“I’m sure that if we brought this up with Starfleet they would approve the extra funding, Spock. Such protective technology would help not just us, but all the other ships making scientific measurements.”

“Precisely. Your support in this would be most appreciated, Captain.”

Spock called the turbo-lift, letting Jim in first, following and pressing the button to reach the level of the residential quarters from the labs they had just emerged from.

“You have that support, in spades.” Jim commented, stifling a yawn as the lift began its ascent. “Chess match? Beta shift is just starting, there’s time for one before bed.”

“That would be most agreeable, Captain.”

“I keep telling you to call me Jim.”

“While we are on duty-“

“Alpha shift has just ended, Spock. It’s alright.” Jim spoke with humour alongside the reassurance, this conversation one of many attempts to expand Spock’s relaxation of his strict boundaries outside of their private interactions.

“I apologise for my reticence, Jim. I simply do not wish for us to be viewed as unprofessional.” While Spock’s face betrayed little emotion, his posture had become less stiff, and his voice was softer.

“I know.” Jim said, fondly.

Just then, the lift lights blinked, and it shuddered to a halt. The lights went out entirely, and the only light left was the eerie blue of the emergency lights.

“What the-?” Jim frowned, pushing at the buttons uselessly for a moment before standing back, glaring at the lift as if it could be stared into functionality.

“I believe that we are stuck.” Spock commented, gently moving Jim aside and pressing the intercom button to put them through to engineering. “Spock to engineering. Scotty, myself and the Captain appear to be stuck in turbo-lift 8.”

“I’ll get right on it, Sir.” Scotty’s voice came crackling through the intercom, and Jim relaxed visibly.

“And now we wait.” Jim sighed, leaning against the wall of the lift, watching Spock to distract himself from the situation. He admired the Vulcan’s lean physique, the way his pointed ears brushed his impeccably tidy hair, the strangeness of a blue shirt in blue lighting. His features, as ever, gave little clue as to what he was thinking. His eyes met Jim’s and he tilted his head slightly to one side, an eyebrow rising quizzically.

“Are you alright, Jim?”

“Of course I am, Spock. I was just studying the effect of the blue lighting to pass the time.”

“That seems a remarkably logical course of action, Jim.”

“Thanks for that!” Jim laughed, but the sound was a touch forced. He winced internally, certain that Spock would pick up on it. His friend did, indeed, seem to take note of something in his tone, because Spock turned his attention to Jim more fully.

“I did not mean any offence.”

“I know, Spock. I’m sorry. I just resent being stuck while aboard my own ship!” he joked, smiling in a way that was supposed to curtail further questioning. But Spock was Vulcan; while he might be human, he often failed to see the hints that were anything less that logical unless he were on the look-out for them.

“Scotty is working on freeing us as we speak.” Spock paused, unusually hesitant before her continued. “Perhaps we could discuss a project, or another topic, to pass the time?”

“That would be an efficient choice, I have no doubt.” Jim managed to smile again, but the expression fell from his face quickly. He was positive that Spock had noticed his fragmenting controls, but he firmly ignored them.

“The funding for my most recent project would greatly benefit Starfleet as a whole, as you agreed. But perhaps it would also be beneficial to assign an additional ensign to the labs for the duration of the project…” Spock began to make a case for why an additional assistant would prove useful, in a bid to distract Jim.

For his part, Jim let the words wash over him, not really listening, but focussing on maintaining an even breathing patter, distracting himself with the elegant lines and alien features of his First Officer. Eventually, his control gave, and the panic that he had been wrestling in his chest overtook him, weakening his knees and pressing him down, until he slid with a soft thud to the floor of the lift. 

He kept his eyes fixed on the floor just in front of him, his arms wrapped tight around his legs, the knuckles white with the effort of stopping his fast breaths from becoming hyperventilation. The whites and greys and blues of the lift crowded him, pushing at his vision until it was surrounded by black, derealisation coming swiftly. He could barely feel his body now, the world lacking solidity. It was as if he were back on Tarsus, back in those cramped rooms and being fed every other day, ultraviolet light the only sanitiser. He lost track of time, or location. All he could focus on was getting through the present moment. 

He felt rather than saw movement, and flinched away instinctively, but there was no touching, only a soothing, familiar voice.

“Jim, please, may I help you?”

Jim looked up, grabbing suddenly for Spock’s arms wildly, as if blind. He clung to his arms as though they were an anchor; Spock was the only solid thing left that proved he was not back in his private nightmares. He couldn’t articulate sounds, but he managed to nod in assent, tears springing shamefully to his eyes as he considered the possibility of being rescued.

“I’m going to touch your face, just lightly, Jim.” Spock’s voice was soft, achingly gentle, and Jim managed to not jerk away from his hand, though he tensed slightly. 

Suddenly, through the contact, he could feel a presence, a connection. It felt like a warm bath, or a loving embrace, and he felt his mind slowly floating back into himself, towards the seductive comfort now available. The world came rushing back, his ears ringing with it as his breaths became deeper, less frantic, vision clearing. He started to pull away, shame washing over him, but Spock simply followed his movement, resting two fingers of his left hand gently on Jim’s temple, maintaining a connection between their minds, still projecting warmth and care and security. All Jim could feel from their connection was kindness and genuine respect. Tentatively, he looked up and met Spock’s eyes. They were filled with unconditional concern. Something in him broke, and he surged forwards, clinging to Spock in a fierce hug as he began to sob, his tangled thoughts taking refuge in the offered love.

Slowly, the flashing images and sensations of Tarsus receded. His sobs quieted, and he realised that he was being held to Spock’s chest, his head resting on his shoulder. Spock was sitting on the floor with him, still there, still comforting him as best as he could. He felt a wave of gratitude and affection surge from himself to Spock, and he knew his face well enough to know that Spock was genuinely startled by it. The fingers on his temple retreated, and Jim sat up, extricating himself from the hug, looking down and blushing.

“I’m sorry, Spock. I –“ he began, but the lights in the lift suddenly flickered back on, Scotty’s voice coming in across the intercom.

“Back up and working, eh lads! Told you I’d fix it in a jiffy!”

“Thank you, Scotty.” Spock replied, his voice perfectly normal. “However, I have a request to make of you.”

“What do you mean, Spock?” Scotty asked, and Jim took the chance from the small delay to stand up and attempt to remove the tears from his face.

“I found that my…controls were compromised by this incident. Could we perhaps send the lift right to the level by my quarters? I must meditate, and this would not be aided by a welcoming committee.”

Jim stared at Spock, utterly bemused. Spock hadn’t been the one out of control – it had been Jim. 

“Oh. I – Of course, Mr Spock.” Scotty sounded confused, but assented. “I’ll have to meet you quickly to debrief outside the lift, but you can go right away.”

The lift moved down to their level. Jim looked down to avoid Scotty’s scrutiny, but the man was too busy eyeing Spock for any signs of compromise to do more than nod to Jim.

“Mr Spock, it seems some wires became crossed during our last encounter.”

“I see. However, the issue is now rectified – may I leave?” Spock spoke oddly loudly, and Scotty blinked. He looked over to Jim, and, noticing this, Spock stepped forwards suddenly. “I shall not stand in this lift a moment more than necessary, Officer.” He pushed right past Scotty, practically running down the corridor to his quarters. Scotty stared after him, mystified by his strange behaviour.

“Captain…you don’t think Spock is claustrophobic?” Scotty’s eyes were still fixated on the corridor.

“I really couldn’t say.” Jim said, hurriedly. “Thanks for your assistance, Scotty. That will be all.”

“No problem, Captain.” Scotty entered the lift, still puzzling over Spock’s behaviour.

Jim walked as quickly as he dared to his own rooms, unsure of what to make of it himself. But then, he thought, a cold feeling creeping up on him, perhaps Spock had been reacting to the sheer emotional display he had made. He allowed himself a wince, now he was in privacy. He slowly moved to their shared bathroom, to wash his face of the tears, and stared unhappily at his reflection in the mirror. Puffy, reddened eyes, cheeks stung pink with tears, there was no mistaking his emotionalism for anything but. He stripped and stepped into the shower, washing the flashbacks away with the water. He dressed in his soft regulation pyjamas, and sat at his desk, an incident report form open on his PADD. 

A knock from their shared bathroom announced Spock’s presence. 

“Come in, Spock.” Jim looked up from his blank PADD, not sure if he welcomed the interaction but knowing it couldn’t be avoided forever.

“Thank you, Jim.” Spock emerged, wearing his pyjamas, and an additional warm jumper that looked unbearably cute on him, oversized and strangely human. “I have filled out the required form and submitted it. I wished to ensure no duplication of paperwork.” He paused, one of his hands fidgeting against the woollen cuff of his jumper. Jim’s eyes were drawn to the movement. Spock had to be very agitated for his control to slip so much.

“Thanks, Spock. I hate paperwork.” He tried for a grin, but it was weak.

“I wanted to check that your emotional state has improved.” Spock replied, abruptly.

Jim blinked, staring at Spock. His face was flushing a light green, his eyes cast down. Of course, he was ashamed of the emotionalism, but he was carrying out his duty as a friend to a human.

“Look, Spock, I’m sorry. I know what happened must have seemed the height of human illogic.” Jim turned away, pretending to look over at his PADD to avoid seeing Spock’s reaction.

“No, Jim.”

“What?” he turned back, confused, and saw Spock staring at him intently, the concern once more written plainly in his brown eyes.

“It was not illogical. I – I did not mean to overstep, but I saw your flashbacks. It is not illogical to fear that which was painful.” 

“I-“ Jim found his words choked off, emotion strangling him. After his self-doubt, the validation was almost too much to bear. “But you ran.” His voice was small, hurt, and he hated how vulnerable he sounded.

“That was not my intent, Jim. I wished to give you privacy. I apologise if this caused you distress.”

“Oh!” Jim exhaled, realisation feeling light a physical weight had been lifted from him. “You were covering for me. Spock…” he stood, moving towards his friend without really noticing or meaning to. “You’d let them believe you were compromised, to protect my privacy?”

“Of course.” His response was immediate and candid, and the pure lack of any other consideration, not even pride, on Spock’s part, made Jim’s heart melt.

“Thank you. I…I don’t know how to express just how much I don’t deserve your level of loyalty.” He whispered.

“No, Jim, you do deserve it.” Spock had stepped closer now, their bodies almost touching, and Spock’s hands were hovering, barely restrained, by Jim’s shoulders. “You are so strong, and brave, and kind. You have been through so much and it has only made you want to protect others more. I admire your strength and your leadership just as much as I admire you as a person. You deserve everything I can give you and more, my dearest friend.” His words were heavy with a strange urgency, as if Spock needed to express himself immediately or risk being unable to speak again.

Jim felt his eyesight blur, tears at such frank words of affection overwhelming him, and he blinked them aside. For a moment, he hardly knew how to respond – he couldn’t form the words. So he took one of Spock’s hands and pressed it to his temple, pushing the sea of emotion his words had inspired towards his mind. He sent the way Spock’s devotion made him feel both overwhelmed and powerful, how wonderful it was to be validated and cared for so completely and without conditions, his fierce reciprocation of admiration, respect and love. He could feel Spock’s mind, the slight fear at the emotion Spock had revealed and the trust that it would be met with understanding and not disgust. He could feel the unfurling hope and joy at the returning of his love. And Jim understood now, what words he couldn’t find before.

“Thyla.” He whispered, and slid his hands into Spock’s soft, silky hair, pulling him in for a kiss. Spock’s mind echoed Jim’s. Thyla.

**Author's Note:**

> So pretty much, I wanted to write some angst because I'm a sucker for the level of genuine care between Jim and Spock, okay! This could be either AOS or TOS really, depending on how you like the characterisation.
> 
> Any comments or kudos or pointers and feedback would be welcomed! I still feel really new to this so advice and feedback is appreciated greatly :)
> 
> Or
> 
> Feed my need for validation of my writing skills!!! XD


End file.
